Silent Hill Chapter 1.3

Chapter One -Fog- (Part 3)

 

  Though he’d been forced to spend another four precious bullets on a dog on the way, Harry somehow managed to make it to Midwich Elementary in one piece. He burst open the front doors, inching into the lobby with a flashlight in one hand and a readied pistol in the other. He heard nothing in the darkened building but the soft shaking of his own hands. No signs of any monsters for now. Those heavy wooden doors seemed more than sturdy enough to keep the dogs from breaking in.   “Cheryl?” He yelled into the darkness. His echoed voice was the only reply. “Cheryl, where are you?”   He began a thorough search of the school building, starting from the first floor and the basement, all the way up to the second floor and the roof. He made note of each room as he checked it, the classrooms, staff rooms, chemistry lab, music room, nurse’s office, library, and the courtyard. Harry even went so far as to check the bathrooms and individual lockers. Maybe she was silently huddled in some dark corner, hiding from whoever might have brought her here. Or maybe she’d already been caught. She could be just beyond his reach, all of her frantic cries for her father silenced by a gag in her mouth. The mere thought of some criminal laying their filthy hands of his daughter was enough to make Harry’s stomach turn.   Each empty room, each silent hallway intensified these dismal visions until Harry found himself choking back tears of helpless frustration. Come on, pull yourself together! He scolded himself.Cheryl is alive. She is safe. And you’re going to find her. If his search had turned up nothing, he’d just start over again. He’d scour this desolate place as many times as it took if it meant finding even the smallest clue.   Harry was certain he had to have overlooked something. But nothing like this. He stood transfixed, back in the entrance lobby.   The reception desk was drenched in red. Warm, wet blood was splattered across the desk as well as the wall behind it. He had stood right here not ten minutes ago. He checked that office top to bottom. What sort of massacre could have happened in that time?   Head pounding, Harry burst into the reception office. He didn’t find the bloodied body of a young girl, or any other bodies for that matter. Just more vivid splashes of fresh blood. Sheer relief stole the air from Harry’s lungs and he slumped over the desk for support.   There were several documents spread across the desk, lists of visitors to the school and student emergency contact information. The papers were useless now, too soggy and blood-splattered to be read. Harry squinted leaning a little closer. Some of those splatters were not as random as he first thought. Smears of red overlapped the black ink on the pages, curving into words that spelled a cryptic poem.     It was nothing a seven year old child could have written but…at the same time, Harry could sense intent beneath those cryptic words. He knew they could have only been left for him by Cheryl. The idea was far beyond any logical thought. Then again, he’d experienced so many impossible things already. Believing this seemed almost easy.   Harry placed a hand onto the stained pages, scanning each word carefully. “Open time’s door…” He recalled seeing what looked to be a clock tower out in the courtyard in the center of the school. It was a tall structure of concrete blocks pushed right up against the walls of the school. While it wasn’t too large around, it seemed big enough to hide a person inside. Especially a small person. Harry had examined it before, but quickly gave up after finding no way inside. Now it seemed to be the best lead he had.   Harry stood before the imposing tower once more. The worn clock face sat at a motionless 5 o’clock. Maybe if he could get some power to it again, it hidden door would open. Let’s see…”Darkness that brings the choking heat…” There was a boiler room in the basement of the building. The boiler itself was quiet, but if he turned it back on, perhaps that could be the “flames” that would “render the silence.” That would make the boiler itself the “hungry beast” that could “open times door.”   Harry raced down the stairs, bursting into the boiler room with the guidance of his flashlight. A hulking metallic machine cast its shadow over the dark room, looming like a monster waiting to be fed. With the flip of a switch on a small control panel, the room was suddenly bathed in red light. The boiler gave a long groan before roaring to life in a near deafening rumble of burning gasoline. Harry didn’t even bother covering his ears; he was out the door the second it started moving.   He ran in a single-minded sprint through the building, pausing only when the floor beneath him rang from a deep and echoing chime. It sounded one, two, three, four more times. Five o’clock. Sure enough, a small door in the side of the clock tower was sitting wide open, almost congratulating him for discovering its secret. The entrance was just large enough for him to crouch inside. The interior was cold and about as roomy as a phone booth, with nothing but a ladder on the floor, leading down into stagnant darkness. Harry didn’t even have to think twice as he began his descent.   The ladder led down into a cramped corridor, which in turn let to another ladder leading up into an opening lit by hazy light.   “What the…?”   Harry emerged from passage to find himself…right back where he started: the same courtyard with the same buildings, the same clock tower looming behind him, and the same fog shrouding the darkened sky. Everything, down to the worn bricks under his feet, was identical to where he had stood just moments earlier. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but he must have traveled some distance underground, at least a couple yards. Either he’d found a secret passage leading to a suspiciously well-crafted replica of Midwich Elementary or he was going crazy.   The radio in his pocket crackled into a burst of static. Harry spun around, shining the weak beam of his flashlight through the fog.   Slap…slap…slap…   Uneven footsteps echoed through the courtyard. A dark figure emerged from the shadows, drawing closer by the second. Harry recognized nauseating stench immediately. It was the same creature that attacked him back in the alley. It was almost child-like in its stature and sluggish gait, but the closer it came, the less human it appeared.   Its head wasn’t much of a head at all, just a neckless protrusion jutting out of its torso. Thick arms spouted from its sides, ending in a set of vicious claws that scraped the pavement as it lumbered forward. There were no traces of a nose or eyes, only a thin mouth stretching vertically across its ‘face’ that harbored a set of uneven, pointed teeth.   It opened and closed its mouth as it walked, appearing almost as if it were mumbling something. Or perhaps it was so anxious to take a bite out of Harry that it was just gnashing its teeth in anticipation.   Harry’s hands were shaking as he reached for the pistol in his belt. He’d faced monsters before but…this thing was no half-rotted dog. This thing was a broken, shambling imitation of a human being, a child even.   A single gunshot rang out. The monster staggered backwards, a gaping hole spewing blood from its chest. It didn’t stop, too single minded in its feral hunting to feel pain. It continued advancing, saber-like claws rubbing together, itching to sink into their prey. The sight, the stench, the incessant grinding of teeth; it was too much for Harry to bear. This thing…this monster couldn’t possibly exist within his carefully constructed view of reality.   He didn’t realize he was screaming, not with his ears ringing with the sound of gunshots. His eyes were squeezed shut, blocking out everything but the kick of the gun in his hands. Finally, after an eternity of deafening noise, the magazine went empty and everything fell silent.   The thing was on the ground, convulsing in a pool of its own blood. The sight should have brought Harry some measure of relief, but it only sent more disgust welling within him. He reached up to wipe off his face, only for his jacket sleeve to return covered in the creature’s blood as well. This…thing’s existence was so wholly contrary to everything he’d ever heard about a kind and benevolent God. What kind of sick God could create something so unholy? Harry was hardly a religious man, but he couldn’t help but think that the wretched creature could have only come from the devil himself.   The place Harry now found himself both was and wasn’t the Midwich Elementary he’d been standing in just a few minutes earlier. The air was heavy, carrying a chill that that had him pulling his jacket on tighter. Hit flashlight, even with a fresh set of batteries, did little to cut through the pervasive gloom. It was like he’d wandered through a portal to another dimension…   What he found in the middle of the courtyard only seemed to confirm that idea. Beneath Harry’s feet was an intricately drawn magic circle of some kind. He’d heard of such things being used like a barrier to protect against evil…or perhaps as a door to summon demons and other dark spirits from the depths of hell. His eyes wandered over to the fallen creature. It had continued twitching for a while but had long since fell silent.     Could that thing have been summoned from here? Was it some sort of demon after all? What about the deformed birds and dogs roaming the town? Could Silent Hill really be cursed?   Harry felt dizzy. His head was pounding from its very core, far worse than anything he’d ever experienced. The truth was as real as the blood that stained his clothes, but it was simply too much for him to take. Harry wanted to throw everything away, to give up and run from this forsaken town as fast as his feet could carry him. He desperately willed himself to wake up from this nightmare, but he was as far from the comfort of his bed as he could possibly be.   There will be time rest once Cheryl’s safe…This thought was the only thing that willed his weary body forward.   -6-   The rest of the school was as unrecognizable as the courtyard. The classrooms were in complete disarray; desks had been flipped and scattered about the room as if there’d been a natural disaster. Just as Harry had finished searching the staff room and was about to leave, the sudden ringing of one of the office phones stopped him in his tracks. He couldn’t think of a single good reason not to, so he picked up the receiver.   “Daddy…” Harry froze at the sound of that beloved voice.   “Help me!”   “Cheryl!”   “Daddy…where are you…?”   “I’m here! I’m right here! Cheryl, where are you?”   In a second, her voice was cut off. The line was dead. Harry stood paralyzed, the receiver still clutched in his hand. His heart pounded as frenzied thoughts rushed through his mind. Chery was begging for help. She was in trouble. She sounded on the verge of tears…   These monsters…the magic circle…Could his daughter be a victim of some cult? Was she kidnapped as a sacrifice for some black ritual? His chest felt like it could burst. That call offered no clues to Cheryl’s whereabouts, but the fact that a phone rang here had to mean something. This school had to be connected to it all. There was no choice but to keep searching.   --   Leonard Rhine The Monster Lurks   Those were the words on the wall in the men’s bathroom, hastily scrawled in dark red blood. Beside the inscription was a suspended corpse, crucified just like the body Harry found in the alley. The only thing that disturbed him more than the gruesome sight, was the inescapable feeling that he’d heard that name somewhere before.   Leonard Rhine was an old author, one who focused on the occult and other supernatural matters. Most people with any respect for reason and rationality turned their noses up at his work. Though he’d admittedly been one of those people, Harry had read one of his books in the past.  He couldn’t remember any of the specifics, it’d been so long ago, but it gave him an idea. Harry made his way to the library.   It might have been a stretch to expect to find any of Rhine’s books in a school library - his work was a bit obtuse for grade schoolers – but the clue was worth investigating. He had no doubt it was something Cheryl meant for him to see.   His nearly-empty gun clutched in his hands, Harry cautiously poked his head around the hallway corner. There were more clawed creatures wandering through the school He’d heard their slapping footsteps accompanied by a whisper of static more than once, but he always managed to slip by them unnoticed.   The school’s library was in surprisingly good shape considering the state of the other rooms in the building. Although there were many books scattered across the floor, the majority of them were still sitting untouched on the shelves. As his eyes scanned the floor, the cover of one book caught Harry’s eye. A wave of nostalgia compelled him to pick it up. He knew this book; it was full of stories and fairy tales he used to read at Cheryl’s bedside to lull her to sleep. He flipped the book open to a story titled “The Lizard and the Hunter.”  

Chapter end